All Three
by Brit98
Summary: Some are born to be great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrusted upon them, but sometimes, every once in a while, some are all three. Oneshot told from Clockwork's perspective.


No one knows their future. Some say the future isn't set in stone, but it really is. Each must be their own artist, though; carving into their stone that is their future. A chip here, a cut there. There may be plans of how the sculpture will turn out, but very rarely does it all go to plan.

Some are born to be great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrusted upon them, but sometimes, every once in a while, some are all three.

Every person is the creation of himself, the image of his own thinking and believing. As a wise man in time once said that the best people possess a feeling for beauty, the courage to take risks, the discipline to tell the truth, and the capacity for sacrifice. Ironically, their virtues make them vulnerable; they are often wounded, sometimes destroyed.

As I sat before a television screen, my eyes scanning the picture before me, I knew instantly who I was watching and what they would become. I also knew every possible thing they could become, but wouldn't. I knew; indeed I did. Then again, I was the Master of Time. I knew everything. I knew the baby before me was meant for great things, things that were unimaginable to most, things that it was only a matter of time.

The screen flashed to years later, when the baby had grown. He was now a toddler, sitting on the floor and playing with some blocks that had a ghostly glow to them. Neither adult paid any mind to the glow. Neither cared when the blocks went into the child's mouth, either. Some would call it neglect. Other would call it abuse. I call it time taking its run.

Fast forward a few more years, the toddler now age eight. Outside, carolers were heard, but inside, shouts. The child was with his sister, sitting in the next room over. The older was trying to comfort the younger, who only sighed in reply. Whether or not this so called Santa was real wasn't his concern. He just wanted the fighting over the holidays to stop. After all, holidays were supposed to be cheerful. Even his friend, the one who hated everything, was cheerful during the holidays.

Suddenly, the screen went black. Still, I didn't flinch or move away. Instead, I changed forms. Adult, to child, to an old man, and back to an adult. It was an unconscious change, something that only felt natural for my body to do. A scream was heard through the television, a scream filled with unimaginable pain.

Sometimes you have to die a few times before you can really live.

Only after the scream stopped did the picture come back. Stumbling forward, a teenager, no older than 14, fell to the ground, his body smoking. Two more teenagers- one female, one male- his age ran forward, calling his name in worry. After a few seconds of no reply, the one on the ground stirred. His eyes fluttered open as he groaned in pain. "Wh-what happened?" He had asked, only to get a look filled with worry, grief, and disbelief from both. He forced a small laugh. "You guys look like you've seen a ghost."

After some talking between the three, the first stood and ran to a mirror, stumbling back with his own disbelieving look present. He touched his snow white hair, then his face by his radioactive green eyes. Just as he was about to say something, two rings of light formed at his midsection. One went up and the other went down, changing his appearance to its opposite, more human, form.

I nodded, moving from the television screen to another across the room from it. I barely glanced towards other screens that floated about the purple and blue room that was only one of many in the castle I lived in, as they were not of importance to me at the time. I hummed as I stopped at my destination, this one holding a picture of the white haired boy from before. He was flying towards the greenish sky that held many floating doors, wearing a suit of armor that had previously been changed to look like his own outfit. "It's not Inviso-bill!" He called down to the ground, trying to correct what was an almost yearlong mistake. "It's Phantom; Danny Phantom!"

I knew what Danny has become and what he would become. I knew everything about this Savior of the Ghost Zone, as many have seemed to start calling him from the time he defeated Pariah Dark. I knew he had great allies and great enemies, but none greater than his ultimate enemy: himself.

Before me was a fourteen year old boy who was willing to risk everything just to protect not only the people he cared the most about, but also those who hated him. At school, he was getting shoved into a locker, teased, and rejected in the harshest of ways, but would still save the bullies when they were attacked by a ghost. At home, he was hunted by his own parents, but he would still continue doing what he was doing, just to keep them safe. He's given everyone else a second chance, but he barely even received a first.

My employers look at time like they're watching a parade, one thing after another passing by in sequence right in front of them. I see the parade from above, all the twists and turns it might or might not take. There were many times in this young boy's past that he could have taken the easier way, the way that would ultimately lead to a worse future. Still, he chose to do the right thing and work through it. It could have benefited him to denounce his father just to learn how to manage the powers that never should have been given to him had it not been for Time choosing him. It would have benefited him very well.

Still, he chose the right thing and everything is the way it's supposed to be.


End file.
